


Happy Ending

by LUCIFER_VLOGS



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: M/M, bed sharing, except that i completely ignored everything about the last 5 minutes except the disease, minor smut tons of fluff bit of angst, one day i stg i will learn to tag stuff, rowdy 3 shenanagins, this is my fix everything fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 16:46:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9193997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LUCIFER_VLOGS/pseuds/LUCIFER_VLOGS
Summary: No matter how many times the CIA’s cronies taught him to trust no one, you’re the only constant in the stream of creation, you’re the only thing that can be relied on, Dirk can’t help but get attached. This is especially unfortunate given that everyone in the last 16 years has left him.Todd's the only one who looks like he might stay, but with his pararibulitis, the only safe place for him is the Rowdy 3's van, which isn't going to stick around. Dirk's not letting him go without a fight, even if that fight means learning a new skill that might not even be possible for him. Oh, well, desperate times and all that.





	

“So you’re going to live with the Rowdy 3 and your sister for the rest of your life?” Dirk asks.

Todd can’t seem to make eye contact with him. “It’s the only cure, Dirk. Its either that or be taking fucking expensive pills that may or may not help for the rest of my life.”

All Dirk can think of to respond is “ _Well_ ” but there’s nothing beyond that so say, really.

“I just thought I’d tell you, because of the whole assistant thing. I never agreed to it and you’ve never paid me, so I’m not technically quitting. But I can’t stay, even if I said yes. Which I didn’t, but,” Todd just lets the conjunction hang in the air.

Dirk is pretty sure that was Todd language for ‘I’m sorry’ or something equally morose and ridiculous. Dirk wishes he could speak the language, so he could translate ‘It’s okay, not your fault you have a nerve disease you lied about having for years only to get it when you no longer have the money to treat it, sort of’.

Dirk goes for a joke. “We’ll, just tell the Rowdy 3 that if they get sick of an all-Brotzman diet, they can always come by the agency and visit me.”

“Diet?” Todd looks at Dirk, “You make it sound like they’re cannibals.”

“Vampires, actually.”

“Vampires?”

“You didn’t know? That’s what they are. The CIA wanted to call them Project Vampire but they couldn’t find a synonym to go with the ‘I’ theme, so they deferred to Incubus. Which I don’t recommend that you Google, given that your sister’s been living with them for a while now.”

“What…why do they destroy things then?”

“They’re anarchists as well. Anarchist vampires.”

“Anarchist vampires,” Todd echoes, “I’m going to live with anarchist vampires who eat my nerve disease out of my still-living body.”

“Just a pointer,” Dirk offers, “Maybe don’t describe it that way exactly. Puts a bit of a damper on the whole situation, and they’re being quite charitable in an odd way, when you think about it. Plus, I don’t think they like you too much to begin with. Every time we meet them they go straight for me, so you’re obviously second rate vampire fare, no offense. I think you’d taste great.”

“Thanks, Dirk,” Todd says, dripping with his trademark sarcasm and thankfully missing Dirk’s heinous innuendo.

They both look towards the train wreck of a car that’s waiting for Todd across the street. Vogel smiles a bit too widely at them, while Martin just growls.

“I’ve always wondered why they never got a handle on normal behaviour,” Dirk muses, “I managed just fine. I mean, I’ve got the habit of talking too long, and there are some social cues I’m sure I miss, or misinterpret, but at least I talk.”

“I’m sure the world is grateful,” he responds, which is a bit rude but its more quintessential Todd than apologies. “How do you know these guys again?” Todd asks, looking a mix of curious and afraid of the answer.

“Well,” Dirk swallows, “if you must know, we were part of the same government project to document persons of high- your words, not mine- psychic ability.” Dirk throws in some finger quotes to try to keep it light- although it is a ‘goodbye, forever’ moment, hard to keep that light- but Todd is looking at him with his mouth slightly ajar. Maybe this was not something to spring on him at the last moment. ‘Oh well,’ he thinks, as it’s out of his hands, mouth now. Dirk resists the urge to close Todd’s mouth for him. Dangerous, that. Also, another grievous misinterpretation of social cues.

“You were actually part of the CIA?” Todd asks with more than a note of incredulity, and before Dirk can answer, Todd waves his hands as if to scrub out the question, “No, wait, scratch that. Not the question I’m going with. So your whole leaf-in-the-stream-of-creation, coincidences are sexy, not psychic but basically psychic bit is documented by the federal government to be the same type of crazy as _that_?”

Todd leans back and looks from Dirk, who dresses in maybe more pastel yellow than your average man, to the 3, who look…however it is they look. Dirk’s just surprised Todd remembers the coincidence line, because it was meant to be, you know, a _line_. Todd didn’t seem to catch on but at least he remembers-

“Dirk those guys suck green energy from people’s bodies.”

“Yeah, Todd, I’m wildly aware. Been on the receiving end of it one too many times.”

Todd’s face is going through a lot of stages. He’s processing beautifully, and its at that moment Dirk realizes he has to go, he’s leaving and its really happening.

Todd swallows and looks at Dirk. His smile is dazzling. “You know, you’ve said ‘everything is connected’, what, like a billion times by now, but its still surprising,” he says, “I can’t believe you’re like the same breed of nuts, no offense.”

“None taken.” Some taken, but Todd’s leaving forever and Dirk will be damned if he sees Todd do anything but smile like this until the bitter end.

“I’m going to miss this,” Todd says, and then, with the usual awful timing, everything clicks into place for Dirk’s brain.

 _You’re like the same breed of nuts,_ he said. And despite some truly drastic differences, maybe it’s close enough.

“I’ve just had a wonderful idea,” Dirk interrupts. He gets to his feet, cups his hands and yells towards the van, “Why don’t you all stay here for the night?”

“Dirk, I really don’t think-”

“Dirk,” Martin growls, which sends Dirk shaking a little bit, but he stands tall and calls over to the man.

“I knew you could talk, after all that!” Dirk calls over, waving the 3 towards their side of the street.

“Maybe it’ll be easier if we just say goodbye now,” Todd mutters, so softly its almost like he doesn’t want to be heard. Dirk takes that at face value and ignores him. “At the very least,” Todd adds at a more audible volume, “Do you really want them staying in your apartment?”

“Come on, Todd. We’ve survived more than a sleepover with the Rowdy 3. What could possibly go wrong?”

 

* * *

 

 

Dirk may have overestimated his relationship with the 3. He thought they had a mutual understanding. He thought that maybe, after all they’d been through together, they wouldn’t take one look at his nice flat and immediately start kicking it to shit.

For the record, that is exactly what they do.

Dirk and Todd stand on either side of the door, flattened against the wall. Todd looks on in horror as he watches his sister scream and wield a baseball bat like the polar opposite of a pro.

“I didn’t think this is how it would go, I swear!” Dirk calls to Todd.

“Did you think they’d agree to a freaking dinner party?”

Dirk thought…well, Dirk would be the first to admit that he was playing for time with every fibre of his being. Cross throws a nice bit of crockery towards Martin and Amanda, who swing baseball bat and crowbar in unison to shatter the shit out of it. If Dirk imagines it’s not his place, it’s almost fun for a moment. And then he looks beside him to see Todd.

Dirk watches how Todd’s eyes glaze over as the disease takes hold, even before the screaming starts and he falls to the ground. This is worse than the useless feeling he got when Todd pushes him away from Amanda’s hallucination at her house, because this time its not Amanda at all. It’s Todd.

The Rowdy 3 are quick to react and help, crowding around him to suck the pain from his fitfully shaking body. He looks so small curled on the ground like that, and something in Dirk snaps. Somehow, Todd always makes Dirk feel helpless. Dirk thinks, perhaps inappropriately, that there’s a catchy song about that he’ll have to add to his iPod.

No matter how many times the CIA’s cronies taught him to trust no one, you’re the only constant in the stream of creation, you’re the only thing that can be relied on, Dirk can’t help but get attached. This is especially unfortunate given that everyone in the last 16 years has left him, and counting Black Wing’s failure, before that too even. Somehow everyone Dirk gives his heart to ends up dancing all over it in steel-toed boots. Todd’s no exception to this, obviously, except that every once in a while he takes a break from the tap dancing to patch Dirk up. Literally, that time on the treasure hunt in the forest, pink Band-Aids like a beacon for blush on Dirk’s cheeks.

When Dirk had walked out of the hospital, all of his stab wounds had technically been stitched up. But seeing Todd in front of him, there voluntarily, not chased or coerced into being there, had somehow felt like opening him up and fully healing him all at once. This is probably what the good Colonel would call “dangerous” or at the very least “reckless”. “Putting all your emotionally fragile eggs in one basket” comes to mind too. Excuse Dirk’s French if he doesn’t give a damn.

He puts Todd to bed, the guy’s passed out after Martin and his crew have done their job. Dirk tried not to feel creepy about watching him sleep for a minute before leaving the apartment, and then he tries not to feel bad about leaving the apartment as he stumbles down the stairs on shaky legs.

Amanda and the 3 (the 4?) decided to take up residence in the van for the night, which makes sense given that they trashed all of Dirk’s living room, where they would have slept. He thinks about the long-gone security deposit on the apartment before knocking on the side of the van. While he waits he wonders what he just touched. He can’t tell if its rusty, bloodstained or just plain painted red.

Martin opens the door, which is nice given that he’s the only one who’s uttered words in Dirk’s presence thus far. Well, words that haven’t ben some variant on “shut up while we destroy your capitalist settlement and suck your blood/energy.”

“Martin, hiiii,” Dirk starts, and the door hasn’t slammed closed in his face so he thinks he’s off to a good start, “Was wondering if I could have a word?”

Martin grunts, open the door fully and he and the other 3 jump out. Dirk can’t help but be thankful that Amanda is asleep. He’s about to say some pretty incriminating things about her brother, not that he thinks she’d mind in the slightest given her enthusiasm about Farah and Todd, but Dirk’s really not a fan of public speaking. About his feelings. To family members of the felt-for.

“So,” he starts again, “Rowdy 3. Or four of you, rather. Can I ask about the name? Bad time?”

They all just stare at him, no one even growls, so Dirk cuts to the chase: “I want you to teach me how to do your vampire thing.”

Vogel looks like he’s been tazered, with the other two showing varied degrees of confusion. Martin, ever the stoic, raises a single bushy eyebrow.

Dirk clarifies, “Okay, maybe for you all its not a vampiric action. The energy sucking, then. Whatever power makes you follow me around and also makes you invaluable to Amanda and Todd.” If Dirk’s voice catches on the last name he choses to ignore it.

The three are looking less shocked but not more amenable to sharing their trade secrets.

“Why do you want it?” asks Cross.

“You already have the gift,” says Gripps, rather cryptically, Dirk thinks.

“Yeah, Icarus,” Vogel prods, turning the name into a jab, and Dirk visibly flinches. Martin jumps on the bait, if you could call slowly, threateningly sauntering right into Dirk’s personal bubble a ‘jump’.

“Why ask for this power,” he asks, “If you’re ashamed of what you already possess?”

Dirk thinks shame is overdoing it a tad, but he digresses. The three aren’t spilling, and wont, unless Dirk cedes more emotional ground. He breathes out slowly.

“Look, I’m not going to spell this out for you, but we’re quite different. Maybe too different for me to even learn how to do what you do. But here’s the down and dirty of it, here are the facts of the matter, Rowdy 3,” Dirk twists their title into an insult, which might be a mistake given that he’s asking for their help, but really, fuck it all at this point, “You have people. You have each other, in this glorious little anarchic freak show on wheels. Its home to you. I, on the other hand, I’ve got nothing. Nobody. Except Todd. Todd is the only one who’s maybe decided to give a damn, in the long-ish term. The foreseeable future, which isn’t shit for someone not like us. And I don’t know why that is, but it is, and I’m not going to question it. And if you think I’m giving up my one chance to go driving into the sunset with someone in a car nicer than yours, well, then you can just fuck right off. If it’ll save his life, yes, he can go with you. I’m not that selfish. But if I can do anything to keep him with me, I’m going to. So teach me your magic trick or clock me out with a baseball bat because those are your only two options right now.”

They’re all smiling, which is annoying as hell. Dirk has the most terrible feeling that he’s going to cry, and a worse feeling is knowing he looks it. He doesn’t want to sound like he’s begging, hence all the bravado and curse words, but when it comes down to it that’s exactly what he’s doing. Begging, for Todd. He is so screwed.

Martin pats him on the shoulder and steps away, which would be a relief if it weren’t a signal for the other 3 to close in and given their two cents of physical congratulation. Vogel is ruffling his hair with both hands, zero thought to how much effort and gel it takes to look this good, Gripps is punching his left arm into a bruisy pulp and Cross has him in what could be a headlock or a hug.

“We’re proud of you, Icarus.”

“Didn’t think you had it in you, puffed up prick.”

“Dirk’s got himself a boyfriend!”

“Boys,” Martin calls them off, “We’ve got work to do.”

Dirk gulps and lets himself be a coward for only just a moment, before remembering Todd in his bed upstairs and steeling himself for the night to come.

 

* * *

 

 

They finish at four in the morning, when Dirk suddenly feels a pulling urge to go back up to his apartment. Amanda’s been asleep this entire time, which Dirk honestly finds ridiculous because everyone’s been yelling or making some kind of loud noise, but he expects it just comes with the territory at this point.

Martin must sense something as well, because he looks at Dirk and says, “Go to him.”

“Well, really,” Dirk pants out (he feels like he’s been running, he hasn’t moved in hours so he’s not sure why), “We’re not even together. This could be a wholly platonic motion. Really, you wound me.”

Martin laughs, which prompts the 3 to howl. But instead of being threatening, it sounds to Dirk like a cultish catcall.

“Alright, alright,” he says, walking away from the lot of them, the rogues, “but don’t leave. Like you said, it might not even work.”

The 3 tumble back into their van, and Dirk turns at the door of the building.

“Thank you!” he yells into the street. The van door slams shut and the streetlight above it shatters. Dirk decides to take the tinkling of glass as a ‘you’re welcome’ but he couldn’t say for sure.

He’s exhausted, but he takes the stairs two at a time. He doesn’t want to dwell on it, but the urge to go up to his place was accompanied by a joy so foreign he thinks its bounced back from future good news. Actually, he’s put forth a theory on exactly that; an out-of-time happiness loop. For what? He refuses to think, to even hope.

As Dirk reaches his floor- God, why didn’t he just take an elevator- he lets himself think it. He lets himself even believe that this might possibly work. He opens the door and is shocked to see Todd standing right on the other side, arm extended to, feasibly, open the door.

“Sorry, I was just-“

“I just got in, sorry if I-“

“-going to check the street? I heard you yelling and I wondered-“

“-woke you, yes, its been a bit of a night, I could tell you but it’d ruin the surprise, also-“

“-if you were alright.”

“-it’s quite late, or rather, early, so we should get to sleep,” Dirk takes a breath, “And I’m flattered, although fine, I was just…telling the 3 to keep the noise down.”

“Oh,” Todd listens to the silence that Dirk’s just taken credit for, and then looks at Dirk’s jacket, “We’ll I’d like to, at least. Go to sleep. Have you? Slept? At all?”

“Gosh no, I’ve been up.”

“Doing what?”

“I’ve been…reviewing the case, yes, that’s what I do after all my cases, a little late night/early morning debriefment-“ oh, damn his word choice “-butI’mdonenow aaand I think bed’s the word of the hour, yes.”

Todd give him a look that says he believes maybe 42% of what he’s heard, and understood less of it. “Riiight,” he says, before turning around and surveying the pigsty that is Dirk’s Rowdy-3-redesigned apartment, “So, I’m going to go with, nobody is taking the couch.”

He walks back into Dirk’s bedroom without another word. Dirk swallows, and follows him.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s a small bed.

“I can just take the floor,” Dirk says, “I’ve done it before and these floors are hardwood. Softer than concrete! The CIA doesn’t do hardwood, let me tell you. This is actually a gift. I’m excited to be sleeping on the floor, who would have thought it?”

“Dirk, you’re not sleeping on the floor.”

Dirk looks at Todd, Todd in just his small clingy t-shirt and boxers. When did he take his pants off? Dirk did not do that after earlier. Dirk would remember doing that. At this point, Todd may as well be naked. Dirk looks away.

“I can sleep on the floor if it’s that big of a deal,” Todd sounds tired, which has manifested itself as Todd sounding annoyed.

“Todd, you’re sick,” Dirk says, and his voice is too gentle, Todd frowns in response.

“Well then you’ve solved this mystery. Neither of us are sleeping on the floor. Get in.”

Dirk takes off his jacket before sitting at the edge of the bed. He tries to think of gory crime scenes as he takes off his boots- he has a lot of memory in that department- before pulling his jeans off. Then it’s the tie, the button down, and then he has no more excuses but to lie down beside Todd. Dirk prays he’s already asleep, but he can feel Todd’s stare, he doesn’t even think that’s the sixth sense talking.

“This is stupid,” Todd says in the hushed voice that means he has to speak but he doesn’t necessarily want Dirk to hear, “but I’m glad you’re still here.”

Dirk is lying on his back, staring at his ceiling. This is the position and place he was in when he got the call from Patrick Spring. That was the day he first met Todd, when his future self told him a lot of important details about the case and threw in, ‘ _This is your best friend_ ’ as a cherry on top. Todd was furious about that for a good chunk of the time they’ve known each other. Dirk’s been in love for a good chunk of the time they’ve known each other. Actually, no, Dirk’s been in love, or something like it, since that moment at the Perriman Grand.

The gory crime scenes haven’t had the desired effect at all on Dirk’s lower body, and he’s half a mind to turn over and show Todd just how glad he is that he is still here, too. He has almost plucked up the courage when he realizes that, while he’s been psyching himself up for copping a feel or whatever his game plan is, Todd has started to fake being asleep. It’s all very obvious, what with the over exaggerated breathing and the turning to the other side so Dirk can’t see whether his eyes are open.

Dirk sighs. “I’m glad you’re still here, too,” he says. He clicks the bedside lamp off and turns away from Todd so they’re both faking sleep back to back.

 

* * *

 

 

Dirk may not be able to see what’s behind him, but in a bed as small as this he can feel it. And it’s nothing nice or sexy waking him up, but rather a shaking body writhing in covers. Dirk sits up straight and fumbles for the lamp before giving up and turning to Todd. He grabs his hand and Todd wrenches it away with alarming strength.

“Don’t, Dirk,” he says between hyperventilating breaths, “You’ll burn.”

Oh, the joys of sharing body heat, Dirk thinks before focusing, trying to bring back the training from what, a couple hours ago? He almost panics.

Almost.

And then he’s drawing on something scary and powerful and primal and _green_ , for some reason. He controls it, tells it what’s what and tells it to feed. It writhes in him for a moment, this power, and it scares him until he remembers that its him, its his power. And if it’s his power, then like everything else about him, it wants to save Todd.

Dirk starts to inhale, and it feels less like breathing and more like opening up the ground below you and instead of falling, flying up. He’s aware of Todd below him, he’s aware of how he looks, breathing a bunch of green gas out of his body, but he also undeniably sees stars.

“Holy shit,” he says, and then, like a spark winking out of existence, he becomes aware that there’s no more pain to feed on. At least, no more physical, psychological pain. He could go the full mile and grab whatever emotions are eating Todd, but he knows that’s not helpful from personal experience. He’s done what he can. So he stops, and with his last shred of strength, flops his unwieldy body back onto his side of the bed, instead of all over Todd’s face.

He exhales long and slow, and just decides to be quiet for a second, let the experience mull over in his cracked out mind.

“What the ever loving fuck just happened?” Todd asks.

So much for that. “Um,” Dirk gets out, but apparently Todd’s not ready to give up the floor yet.

“Did you just,” Todd sits up and struggles with the covers before turning on the lamp, “do the thing? The Rowdy 3 vampire thing?” Todd stares at his hands. “I’ve got to be dreaming.”

“You’re not dreaming,” Dirk says, sitting up slowly like he’s approaching a skittish animal, as Todd’s eyes have taken on a manic glint.

“That is exactly what Dream You would say.”

“Alright, I’m going to do something, and I’m just going to warn you-“

“What are you-OW! Christ, Dirk, that hurt!” Todd rubs his arm where Dirk pinched him.

“You’re not dreaming. This is actually happening. I went out earlier and got the Rowdy 3 to help me access their psychic power, and I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to do it, but I have, and I can, evidently! So, and this is if you’d like, of course, you can stay. And be my combination assistant and best friend, ad infinitum.”

Todd looks shocked for a second before his gorgeous smile breaks out. “Yeah, no thanks, I’ll just go with the Rowdy 3 for the rest of my life,” he says, ever the sarcastic, before throwing his arms around Dirk and almost pitching the both of them off the bed.

“Well, if that’s what you want.”

“No, Dirk,” Todd lets go, but they’re still close, “This is amazing. God, how did you even… I could kiss you right now.”

“Guess I’m the one dreaming now,” Dirk says and immediately flinches at his own words, “Sorry, Freudian slip. Although that’s usually a little more flagrant than an admission that you’d only kiss me in my dreams, with the implication that I’d want that, which I definitely do not-“

“Dirk,” Todd’s voice is low, and Dirk can’t make eye contact, because if he does he’ll spontaneously combust or something, his cheeks are burning so. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

Dirk swallows. “The short answer is yes, but the long answer is-“ and he doesn’t finish because somehow, in some quick movement that shouldn’t be possible this late, running on such little sleep, Todd has straddled Dirk’s hips and pushed him down on the bed. Their faces are close, and getting closer.

“You don’t have to do this,” Dirk interrupts, hating himself for it, “You don’t have to feel like you owe me.”

“Oh, I don’t owe you shit,” Todd breathes, “The vampire act is your raincheck for all the awful shit you’ve done to me. This is,” Todd thinks for a second before smiling, “celebrating.”

And then their mouths are on one another, and if Dirk was questioned after the fact, he couldn’t say who moved first. Todd’s ideas of celebration are really quite extraordinary, the heat of his lips and tongue burning Dirk, who’s worried he can’t keep up. Todd’s hands aren’t satisfied staying in one place; they card through Dirk’s hair, down his chest, under his shirt. Dirk feels overwhelmed with Todd above him, over him, almost, somehow, worshipping him. He pushes himself up into a sitting position with Todd in his lap, Todd who immediately takes advantage of the situation to pull Dirk’s shirt off. Dirk doesn’t hesitate to return the favour. Todd’s mouth meets his neck after only seconds apart, tracing kisses down his chest. Dirk looks at the ceiling, trying desperately to slow his stuttering breath, trying to make the tightness in his briefs less insistent, trying hopelessly to last longer. This is of course when Todd’s mouth finds Dirk’s nipple and he has to fling out an arm because _oh god_ his mouth is doing monstrous things.

This is also when Dirk has a horrible paranoia.

“Wait, wait,” he manages to squeak out, “what if it comes back? What if I didn’t do it right, or if you get another one-“

Todd dislodges his mouth with an annoyed noise. “Dirk, do you think my family just stopped procreating because of this thing?  
“Well, no, but-“

“I have never heard of someone having back to back attacks of paribulitis,” Todd spells out impatiently, “And even if it did come back or something-“ Todd’s annoyance suddenly falls away and he’s looking at Dirk like he’s an alien “-you’d be able to stop it. You really…” he laughs, and Dirk laughs too at the pure relief on Todd’s face “You did that. You learned some weird fucking voodoo shit to help me. God, you’re really the whole package aren’t you?”

“Todd that really is flattering, but I have some disappointing news for you regarding my- _ah_ \- performance, or history, or- _oh, stars_ \- whatever you call it in America.”

“Oh,” Todd’s voice has a mischievous lilt Dirk thinks he should be afraid of, “You think I didn’t notice this yet?”

He palms Dirk’s cock through his briefs, and that contact alone is enough to make him black out for a moment.

“You’re incorrigible,” Dirk gasps out, “And possibly sadistic.”

“Already regretting it?” Todd teases, working at him through the fabric, “No wonder you looked scared shitless when I made you get into bed with me.”

Dirk can’t help but be honest, even if it’s not the sexiest thing to say. “I was more worried about myself. I had no idea you had designs on me.”

Todd relents for a minute only to lean back and laugh. “Really?” he says when he stops, “Do you even look at me? I thought I’d been obviously mooning over you since I picked you up at the hospital. If not for the whole paribulitis deal and the fact that I thought you were only interested in being my friend, this would’ve happened way sooner.”

“You thought I only wanted to be your friend?”

“Well, yeah, that’s your tagline. You said it to me like five minutes ago, again.”

“I didn’t want to scare you! I didn’t even think you were gay, much less into me.”

“Guess you won the lottery, then,” Todd says, before kissing him again, and this time it feels slower and less overwhelming. Dirk’s the one to lick into Todd’s mouth, tasting him from the inside out. The fervour’s abated, although the heat is still everywhere. Todd grinds his hips down on Dirk’s lap, Dirk responds by sucking hickey after hickey onto his neck. He thinks he’s holding up pretty well under the utter onslaught of Todd’s attentions, but the pressure is building, every shift in the fabric of his pants an awful hint of not enough friction.

They manage to pull off the rest of their clothes, and at this point Dirk thinks even the sight of Todd, actually, fully naked and willing, is enough to make him come. Of course, nothing is as simple as that, and as Todd’s hand closes over his dick its just the wrong side of painful, without enough slick.

“Sorry,” he says, biting his lip, “Do you have anything?”

Dirk can only shake his head, and then to his eternal shock Todd slides off the bed onto his knees and puts him in his mouth. Its glorious, and its all Dirk can do not to shamelessly fuck his face because, really, some manners would be nice. He lasts what feels like all of thirty seconds before coming with a moan. Todd swallows it without complaint, which is almost enough to make Dirk come all over again. He climbs back into the bed, and Dirk notices he’s reaching that point himself. Todd spits in his hand and goes to work on his own cock, and Dirk is so far gone that he can only watch him bring himself to completion. He wipes himself down with his discarded t-shirt, and then they lie there panting for a moment.

“Do you remember one of the first things you said to me was accusing that my sex life was boring?” Todd asks without waiting for an answer, “Can’t do that anymore.”

“Can’t believe that line actually worked,” Dirk responds, turning to look at him across the pillows.

Suddenly they’re both laughing hysterically, and Dirk guesses the night they’ve had is a little funny. The bed’s not at all as small as he’d originally feared, but he still takes the excuse to pull Todd close for the rest of the night.

 

* * *

 

 

The sun is well up when they finally wake up, which Dirk believes is entirely warranted given the events of the night before. Events that were totally real, he reminds himself, because otherwise they wouldn’t have woken up stark naked and entwined with each other.

Todd takes it upon himself to make breakfast, or brunch, or maybe just lunch. Dirk thinks its sweet until Todd reminds him its because he can’t cook. Dirk watches him make eggs at the stove until he notices a stillness in his posture.

“Dirk-“

“Here.”

Todd’s hands shake for a moment, but it passes without any further incident.

“False alarm,” he says, blasé, and immediately returns to cooking without any further fuss.

“Are you okay?” Dirk prompts, but Todd just nods, completely unfazed. “How are you suddenly not afraid of the hallucinations?” he presses, and Todd actually laughs in response.

“What, and be afraid of something that’s not even going to hurt me for more than the two seconds it’ll take for you to get to me and work your magic? Doesn’t seem practical to be afraid of that, does it,” he says with a smirk.

“I’m ever so flattered, really, I am,” Dirk replies, trying to be practical, “but there are some situations where you have to be careful. I’m not always going to be there.”

Todd snorts. “Yeah, okay Dirk. Says the guy who’s been literally and figuratively chasing me since we’ve met.”

“That is very insulting. I might just leave.”

“No,” he says matter-of-factly, “you wont”

“You’re right, I was bluffing”

“Dirk, trust me, I know.” Todd’s smile is so lovely that Dirk melts for a moment, before immediately jumping to more disaster scenarios.

“But really, what about when I’m asleep? I do need to sleep, contrary to popular belief.”

Todd sighs and prepares for the debate by taking off the finished eggs from the stove and gesturing with the pan. “Wasn’t a problem last night. Actually, come to think of it, it was the opposite of a problem last night.”

“Ha, ha, fake laugh,” Dirk says as he gets cutlery, “What if you’re in the bathroom?”

“I guess I’ll have to piss with the door open then.”

“Todd. That is disgusting,” and especially so, as they’re about to eat, “But fair, I guess. What about if you’re in the shower?”

Todd sighs, fed up with the conversation’s dismal turn. “I guess you’ll have to be with me for that, too. Any objections?”

“Todd, you utter dog, you.”

Todd smiles rogueishly and walks towards him. The food’s forgotten on the table. He puts his hand on Dirk’s chest, and Dirk worries for a moment he’ll feel that may his heartbeat positively stutters at the contact. Shocking, but he still can barely believe its real; that Todd is still here and staying. Todd must notice the worry on Dirk’s face.  
“Is this alright?” Todd asks, his breath warm on Dirk’s face.

He can only nod in response. This is of course the perfect time for the amped rock and growling noise to start up again, although Dirk supposes there were more inconvenient times last night to be interrupted.

“Is that them?” Todd asks, stepping towards the window to see the vibrating van out beneath its broken streetlight. Dirk stands back from the window, and Todd looks at him and grins. “Guess I’m no longer in need of their services, then,” he says before leaning out the window as far as he can and giving them the finger.

“You know your sister’s in there,” Dirk laughs out, joining him at the window to wave.

Amanda somehow opens one of the blacked out windows, and Dirk can see her freaking out all the way down there. He supposes something about the collective state of their hair must have tipped her off. Or Vogle did, the scamp. They watch as the engine revs up and the mess of a car drives away down the street, leaving Todd by Dirk’s side.

“So,” Todd says, turning to him, “Were we in the middle of something?”

“The most important meal of the day, I thought,” Dirk replies. They both look at the eggs, which are looking cold, and about to get even colder. Unanimously, they decide to skip breakfast.

**Author's Note:**

> i literally left every possible detail out that i wanted in this, so i don't even know if it made sense. hope you enjoyed anyways!


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